C2
by shintahikari
Summary: Code Geass AU. An enigmatic woman with golden eyes tries to find a partner to fulfill her goals. Her two candidates are elite members of a mysterious organization known as 11. Who will she choose, and how will her choice affect her fate? C.C.xLelouch.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 1 - The Show

"You're weird."

I wince at the crass remark. I would normally never let it pass, but this time is an exception.

"I believe the correct term is eccentric, little boy."

The boy suddenly swings around and runs back to the table near the wide glass windows of the café, tearing up and shouting "Mommy!"

Maybe I glared too much in that one.

"Oh be quiet. I am not being cruel at all. Who do you think I am? Even if it is a kid..."

The conversation cuts off. He is finally here. I gently place the slice of pizza on the plate and stand up, leaving enough cash for a generous tip on the table. I walk over to the café doors, and then change my mind. I return to my table, pick up the last slice of the remaining pie from the plate, take a bite, exit the café, and nonchalantly weave my way through the crowd of people on the street.

I guess this proves the brat's statement about me. I just hope that a woman walking through the human traffic of this business district _while eating pizza_ does not stand out too much. God knows that is the last thing I want right now, not that he exists or anything.

"It is not _just _a slice of pizza. Stop talking to me. We have a show to look forward to."

Though I have been waiting for quite some time as a precaution, he arrived at exactly the time I estimated. The two feasible periods to inflitrate the Ashford Enterprise building would be 12 o'clock noon and midnight, for completely opposite reasons. I follow him as meekly as I can, keeping enough distance to prevent him from noticing my presence. This is quite difficult, since I am in office attire and heels, but I manage. He walks with no visible tension, as if it was merely a stroll through the park. If I had to nitpick at his disguise, it is that he is too professional. Even the most easygoing employee does not look that relaxed, much less a man who is about to attempt what he is going to.

He walks up the short flight of stairs that circumvallates the towering building, naturally making his way towards the lobby from the main entrance. My best bet is when he is about to enter the doors, so I rush from the side and overtake him without him seeing me. I take out a small button from my jacket pocket, and then make a sudden turn towards the man in the black suit, his apparel reminiscent of the agents from espionage films. I lightly brush against him, leaving the black button pinned to his outfit. I then enter the doors beside him, but slowly enough so that he moves in front and loses sight of me.

"Perfect. He did not seem to notice at all. He seems to have gained weight since I last saw him though."

I was a bit worried, hearing that this man was one of the best people in "11", but I am also quite confident in my own abilities. At least I am sure that it is more than enough to outwit even the most capable agent in the world, given the amount of research I have done on him and his tactics.

I immediately leave the building and re-enter the café across the street. It is a haven for the employees around this area, and now, it is the best seat in the house.

"It's time!" shouts the old lady behind the counter, followed by a siren of lunch bells signifying the start of lunch period, the busiest time for any food establishment in the district.

As if keeping beat with the end of the siren, the entire Ashford Enterprise building shuts down, almost eclipsing the midday sun with its height after losing its usual electronic luminescence. This seems like the best way to infiltrate any building since it disables surveillance, that is, except this one. Ashford Enterprise, being practically one of the most influential companies in the world, has the latest in technology when it comes to security. Even the most experienced hackers can only disable their electrical system for about two minutes. I can do it for three. Either way, it is not enough time to do _anything_, especially with the elevators not working with the power outage.

With the lights out, observation from outside becomes futile. I take out my slim platinum palm top, unfold it, and adjust the image being received from the button I previously bugged the man with. As expected, there is a flurry of people inside the lobby, a chaotic mix between people about to leave for lunch and those trying to secure the area. But what surprised me is that the man is not doing _anything_ at all. He is simply standing facing the right side of the ridiculously oversized information desk in the middle of the lobby that does not lose to a five-star hotel in both size and grandeur. In a barrage of black, several men in all-black suits storm from the left side of the camera, in this case, the left side of the man himself. He suddenly moves along with the black wave.

"You two, take the storage room door which exits into the alley. That is probably the best way to break inside considering it is usually left unguarded." He orders two of around a dozen men that flooded the lobby.

"Understood." The two quickly reply with a short nod.

Using the electrical failure he himself orchestrated in advance as a diversion and blending in with the security team is a good plan. But the more difficult phase lies ahead.

He starts moving towards the elevator, seemingly securing the area evident from the jerking left and right movements of the button camera. S everal of the men follow. The electricity has been out for three minutes now. It seems his hacking skills exceed first class.

Two minutes later, the power comes back on, with the entire security team confused as to what happened during the blackout. It is normal to think that a hacker with the ability to shut down the system of the famed Ashford Enterprise for five minutes will have used that time to fulfill his objectives. With this in mind, everyone moves with the assumption that the intruder is already on the upper floors of the building, where anything worth stealing is kept secure.

He enters the elevator with two other black suits. This is probably the most dangerous part in this scenario. Being trapped in a confined space with the members of the Ashford security team, the panic of the diversion will lose its effectiveness, and the chances of his cover being blown become considerably higher.

"I wonder how he plans to get through this." I muse.

And sure enough, the security member standing on the left side starts noticing the new face present in the elevator. Raising his left eyebrow, he opens his mouth to inquire about the unfamiliar member riding with them to secure the research floor, where the most sensitive materials and information are kept.

"I don't see you around-" The question was cut short with the buzz from the radio.

"A garbage man is unconscious in the storage room. It seems that the intruder did use the entrance from the alley to enter the premises." The voice reports, followed by brief static.

"Then they must have used the back stairs in area L5 to go up the building." The agent from "11" quickly interjects.

"Probably. We better hurry to the research division." The man beside the elevator control panel replied.

"Impressive planning." I _whisper_ to myself. I was never one to compliment people, and if I have to in the case of exceptions, there is no need to be flamboyant about it.

With the sharp chime that can be clearly heard even through the miniscule transmitter in the black button, the elevator doors part, and a brightly lit hallway is unveiled. Everything is painted white, with white tiles on the floors. It gives the feel of an empty hospital, eerie in its silence.

"You two take the R-1 laboratory. Make sure to secure all the researchers. Evacuate everyone to section R-3. Those minds are worth millions." Our agent states with authority, erasing all suspicions on his identity with the display of an intricate understanding of the building layout as expected of a member of the security team.

"And of someone who is trying to break through that security too. The Ashford Enterprise must have poor employee screening, hiring these clowns to guard their precious headquarters. They are making this too easy, at least too easy to be a sufficient test."

"Mommy, that green haired old lady is back. She's talking to herself again. She's weird."

I slice the air, almost burning a line through the glass panels of the café windows with my stare as I twist my head to face the familiar voice. I meet the boy's eyes, and with my left cheek twitching in fury-

"I am not an old lady." I say with a smile.

With the wailing of a child in the background, I refocus my attention on the small monitor on the table.

He splits up with the other two and lightly walks towards a dead end. The entire floor is littered with surveillance cameras, to the point that even this short passage perpendicular to the main hallway has a surveillance camera on the top right corner attached to the ceiling. Across the camera is a small door, probably a storage closet. He walks towards it, and with a quick medley of movement, a series of ruffling sounds and a short darkness, my monitor shows the agent's black suit strewn on the corner directly beneath the surveillance camera. He spins around, pulls back the white sleeves on his left arm revealing his watch.

"White sleeves… A lab coat tucked inside the suit… So he didn't gain weight…" I mumble, feeling a tinge of worry about my own weight, while trying to win my own battle against the tenacious four cheese pizza I ordered.

Picking up the pace, he turns the corner and briskly moves towards a woman in glasses, with dark circles under her eyes probably from overworking, her wavy black hair resting on her back at shoulder length.

"Because of this incident they might shut the laboratory down for a while." He speaks in a worried tone.

"Umm… Yes… That would probably be the case." The woman shyly mutters while glancing towards the white tile between their feet.

"You see, I have been trying to complete a new finance monitoring program for the Ashford Bank computer system for the past week, and I have to finish it soon. Do you mind helping me transfer the files from the mainframe? With two people, we can finish before the security guys drive us out."

"Ah… But, they said to evacuate to R-3-"

"I see. It's alright I guess. It's just that I have been having problems with that program lately and have been getting in trouble… And my project supervisor keeps giving me crap for minor errors in the programming which weren't even my fault to begin with, and… Oh sorry. I didn't mean to start ranting. I guess we better go and get out of the security team's way."

He turns around and steps towards the direction leading to the elevator, but is halted on the way.

"Umm… wait. I, I can help you out I guess."

"Really?" I can only imagine the bright smile he flashed her at this point. The childlike, energetic voice he replied with helps.

The girl looks into an optical scanner, enters a code, and whispers in her small voice "Nina Einstein". The beeping sound confirming the password follows and the thick glass doors slide open.

"Nina."

"Ah, yes?"

"Please transfer the files under the directory Ashford Bank finance monitoring system. There should be a folder there under section fifty, division double R, subdivision Y."

Come to think of it, all I know about this agent's mission is the fact that he was hired by some aristocrat to infiltrate the Ashford Enterprise building. Well, it's probably just the usual industrial espionage anyway. It is practically impossible to hack into the main database from the outside. Shutting down power is the best anyone could do against such an advanced system.

"What the-" I blurted out of shock.

On the computer monitor, using the secure messaging system within the internal network, he typed a short message saying "Happy Birthday, Father." and sent it to the company president's office.

"What a daughter." I say with a sigh.

The agent stealthily but quickly leaves the laboratory while the earnest Nina is still trying to find the file he was referring to. She will never find it though, and will probably only stop when she uses the search function to directly link to the file. She is not naïve enough to ignore the 50RRY search name and the missing troubled scientist, I hope.

The fake researcher makes his way back to the small hallway and changes back to the black suit characteristic of the security team, leaving the lab coat under the surveillance camera, practically the only trace of the intrusion along with the birthday greeting and a confused researcher. He goes down the back stairway and meets up with the two black suits he himself sent to the storage room entrance a few minutes back.

"Carry this guy to the infirmary. I'll take over here." He says, pointing at the still unconscious garbage man.

The two buffoons seem to trust this man completely and leave the scene. I doubt that Ashford would hire anyone incompetent to this extent. There must be something about him that I simply cannot understand through transmitted sound and images.

He exits the scene through the alleyway. It all ended in ten minutes from the power shutdown. The rumors were true. He completed this mission alone, with minimal effort and maximum efficiency, deserving of the title-

"Huh, what do you mean something is strange? Yes, I did put the button transmitter on his suit jacket-"

On his jacket? Didn't he take off his jacket and leave it underneath the camera in that short hallway earlier?

I was ripped away from my puzzled thoughts when I saw a man in a black suit, with ebony black hair flowing down the sides of his face, his piercing violet eyes gazing directly at me from outside the glass windows of the café. His previously robotic expression transforms into something between a smile and a smirk.

I think I finally understand what that unknown factor about him is.

He slowly raises his right hand towards his mouth. It seems to be holding something.

"Did you enjoy the show?"

A cracking sound. Static.

"A bit, Zero."

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Well, that is the end of the first chapter. Actually, it was more of a prologue because it does not really answer all of the questions it raises, but I assure you that those will be addressed in the following chapters. I would really appreciate any comments and criticisms. I hope you enjoy this fanfic.


	2. Chapter 2

Standard disclaimers apply.

Chapter 2 - The Bet

"Royal Straight Flush."

I lay the cards down on the velvety green table. A few sighs emanate from the two old men in suits across me, the bald man to my right remains silent, while the relatively youthful man wearing a yellow tuxedo to my right simply smiled.

"You seem to be blessed by lady luck tonight, Miss Marianne."

I return the smile, slightly waving my hand in front of me.

"It is merely beginner's luck." I say, while I cautiously extend both my hands to gather the collection of chips on the middle of the game table.

The young man runs his fingers through his wavy blonde hair, and slightly narrows his eyes as he quickly darts his gaze downwards to look at my breasts without me noticing. It would have been truly hard to discern if done only once, which unfortunately, is not the case. Normally, being admired does not give off a bad feeling, but his arrogant face combined with his sheer lack of tact towards a lady tempts me to teach him some manners. I do have to admit that the red sleeveless china dress I am wearing may be a little too revealing with the unusually high skirt slit, but that is for mobility in case something goes wrong. Well, it does not really matter anyway. The object of observation for tonight has finally arrived.

"Would you like something to drink, Miss?" The room attendant asks me with a boyish smile.

The attendant is wearing a black vest over a long sleeved white shirt. His slightly crooked bowtie completes the typical waiter attire.

"Not really. I would like a slice of pizza if you have it." I silently reply.

He slowly rears his body downward in a slight bow, and touches his short brown hair with his fingers, and proceeds to meekly scratch his head in a mixed display of confusion and apology.

"Um, I am sorry but, we do not seem to have it in our menu." A forced smile comes to surface. His eyebrows slant downward as he closes his eyes in apparent guilt. Whether this guilt is from the fact that the casino kitchen does not serve pizza, or if he is afraid he has embarrassed me since I asked for it remains a mystery.

"You're funny." I release a tiny chuckle.

"Thank you." He replies, after a moment of silence.

From my research, he is here to make sure that Clovis Vi Britannia, the blonde cretin whose eyes are now focused on the new set of cards in his hands instead of my body, does not die before the night is over. Despite his real task, he seems awfully concerned with doing his waiting job well, in his own clumsy way.

He leaves the room after taking the drink orders of everyone else. The rumors about him do not seem to fit my impression. Unlike the time with Zero, this is my first time seeing him in person. It was not because information about him was hard to find though. On the contrary, he is almost too famous for his own good, especially in his trade. The only thing that remains relatively confidential about him is his involvement with "11". This clumsy man cannot be his real self. It is probably an act; otherwise he is nothing more than an id-

"Full House." Clovis laughs confidently as he reveals his hand to everyone.

"Four of a kind." I quickly blurt out, so that I can see his moment of victory and pride shatter as soon as I can. He does not disappoint.

"It seems luck is not the only thing you have in your repertoire." His previous gaze changes into a glare.

"Of course, I also have my good looks." My humble mask slips for an instant due to his reaction, which I interpret to be a challenge to me.

I realize the folly of my response immediately, and even if it is an exercise in futility, I attempt to salvage the situation by passing it off as a joke. But before I could even begin-

The door bursts open, and four men in waiter uniforms quickly enter the room. Without so much as a word, one of them throws a black metal object across the room. The man sitting on my left flings his cards across the table rises up and snatches the gun from the air. He calmly swings his aim, it passes over me, and rests directed at Clovis' forehead. The other poker players in the room freeze in fear.

"Wha-What is the meaning of this!?" Clovis stutters as he frantically tries to grasp the current situation.

"This is your execution, you bastard." The man with the gun stares at Clovis like a desperate and starving predator stalking its prey. The other four men quickly closed the door and surrounded the table, two of them standing near the entrance to the room. The other two stand on the opposite end of the room, facing the door from the opposite end of the table.

"Execution? I didn't do anything! What are you talking about!" Clovis shouts in return. The only thing convincing and sincere about his reply though, was the obvious terror he was falling into. He is probably confused not because he is unaware of the reason for this development, but rather because he is unaware which, probably from the many transgressions he has committed.

"You must have been a very bad boy, Clovis." I mutter to myself.

The barrel of the gun quickly points towards me.

"You're probably the bodyguard that he hired to protect himself right? If you keep quiet and do nothing, we will spare your life." I get a better look at his face as he looks straight towards me.

I remember him now. I am pretty sure he is Clovis' private secretary Bartley Asprius. While researching Clovis' background for tonight, I came across a tax evasion incident several years ago. Apparently, the multinational Britannia Corporation currently controlled by Clovis was suspected of tax fraud, but all the blame eventually fell to his secretary. He was written off as dead in the records, killed while trying to escape from prison.

"So you plan to get revenge on Clovis for making you a scapegoat. What a pathetic man." I declare as I stared at him in contempt.

"Yes I am pathetic! He not only ruined my life, he also held my family hostage so I will not talk! And I wasn't planning to, but when I escaped from the slammer he killed them all! Worst of all, he does not even remember my face! But if I am pathetic, you are disgusting, being this monster's whore!"

"You better shut up, _boy._ I could not care less how pitiful a life you have. Consider yourself lucky that I am here on business, but if you keep running your mouth you will curse the fact that you exist even before I am through with you." It was less anger than irritation, but my threats are never empty.

He becomes silent and steps back a few feet. It seems he has realized his place.

"Get this bitch!" He states in a panicked tone.

I guess not.

Someone knocks on the door.

"I am sorry, but handling you people is not my job. It is his." I state matter-of-factly, as I lean back on the lofty chair. Crossing my arms in front of me, I give out a sigh. You are late, Mr. Bodyguard.

The wavy brown hair is the first thing to peek through the door, followed by his usual smiling expression. In a swift fluid motion, he enters the room. He is carrying a tray with the drinks everyone ordered, and to my surprise, a plate with a slice of pizza. Is he really nothing more than an id-

"I am sorry for the delay, but I had to rush over to the Pizza Hut restaurant three blocks away to order some pizza."

He moves towards me holding the tray with his right hand, and takes the plate and gently slides it on the game table.

"I took the liberty of choosing the type of pizza. I hope it is to your liking." He speaks in a casual manner, not fitting the formal words he used.

"As long as it's Pizza, I don't really care." I reply casually as well.

He gives a light bow. Everyone in the room except for the two of us was in a state of bewilderment, perplexed as to whether he is completely oblivious of the situation. Taking no risks, Bartley shifts gunpoint from me to the resolute waiter.

"What do you think you are doing?" Bartley sternly questions him.

"Moonlighting I guess. It was actually kind of fun." He replies, his usual innocent smile decorating his face.

"Bartley, let's make a bet." I interrupt their conversation.

"If you can kill this waiter, I will quietly leave and let you kill this coward in peace. Otherwise, I will make sure that none of you leave here alive." I propose while pointing first at the waiter, then at Clovis.

It is a simple bet, but my reward in case I win must be strange to them. They have no idea what my intention is. It is in fact a bet for me to _decide_, something I have thought up in consideration of the graveness of the situation. No test can be more decisive than this. But, even if they are still convinced that I am Clovis' bodyguard, I guess no one would be stupid enough to actually-

"I will take you up on that." The bald fool answers, smiling as if relieved.

I guess my threat before was a little too effective.

"Do you trust me that much?" I hear the voice of the acclaimed "knight" from "11" behind me.

"Not at all. But that is what makes gambling fun." I say as I turn to look at him.

"I guess it's time to go back to work."

He is different. The naïve dumb look he had on his face throughout this night is nowhere to be seen. His emerald eyes have lost its haziness, and seem to have settled on Bartley. It is only natural, the only gun seen here is the one pointed at him. However, the four other men probably have some sort of weapon with them as well. In a room this small, if they all had guns, even if it was me fighting I will probably only survive because I have no other choice. I just hope his fixation on that one gun is not based on such a foolish assumption.

The shrill sound of a single gunshot echoes in the room. Due to soundproofing, I doubt anyone in the main casino outside heard it. The shot came from one of the two men near the door, who seems to be missing. The only thing left is the smoking gun slightly spinning while falling from the air. I hear a loud thud on the floor and see the finishing motion of a leg sweep performed by Clovis' real bodyguard. As the other man on the right side of the door tries to pull out his gun, he continues the spinning movement from the sweep and uses his right leg to kick the gun in midair. The gun slams handle first into the other man's nose, forcing him to let go of his own gun as he was aiming it downwards. The bodyguard swiftly catches the gun with his left hand then places it on my lap.

"Aren't you going to use this?" I ask him, raising my left eyebrow in genuine curiosity.

"I can't. I'll have my hands full in a second." He quickly but calmly replies, giving me a glance while going over my shoulder and picking up the tray and my plate of pizza on each of his hands. The three remaining enemies point their guns at him while the two old players run towards the door. Clovis is still frozen on his seat, trembling in fear. Again, gunshots blaze inside the tiny room.

In unison with the flares shooting out from the gun barrels, my vision is blocked by the bottom section of the round poker table. Clovis falls forward from his chair in the chaos, luckily dodging the bullets the big wooden table did not cover.

"He kicked up a poker table that is sturdy enough to stop bullets?" I muse, entertained at the display of unusual and useful power.

The two old players managed to get out of the room. I remain seated with my arms crossed, the gun still on my lap. The poker table is now on its side, and serves as a wall dividing us and the three gunmen. The bodyguard then grabs a glass of martini on the tray and slings it from behind the table. It flies towards the man on the right corner of the room. In reaction, the man shoots the glass, sending both the cocktail and glass shards hurtling towards his face and eyes.

"What a waste." I say to myself, honestly disappointed.

With the right gunman momentarily disabled, the bodyguard drops the tray, puts his back on the table and uses his free hand to grab on one of the legs. He then kicks off Clovis who has lost consciousness from shock on the floor in front of me and uses him to propel the round table into a spin. The table spins clockwise, surprising the left gunman when he sees the previously out of sight bodyguard clinging behind the table. The bodyguard releases the table leg and uses the momentum of the spin to perform a spinning sidekick while in the air. The blow connects with the man's jaw, and sends him flying to the corner of the room.

"That was definitely fatal." Though I am not a fan of needless killing, I am pleased to know that my worries about him being too soft were unfounded.

Bartley quickly swings his gun to the direction of the bodyguard but doesn't find him there anymore. Since I have a bird's eye view of the events being on the other side of the table, I can clearly see that he used the impact of the sidekick to push himself back into a roll, instantly returning to his position behind the table.

The previously disabled gunman seems to be regaining his sight, and starts shooting in anger at the table. The bodyguard uses this chance and kicks the table towards the gunner. Due to the sheer weight of the table, it does not travel far, at least not far enough to hit the gunner. But the gunner crouches down and tries to defend himself from being crushed by blocking using his arms. His blurred eyesight probably caused him to mistake the speed and distance of the table coming towards him. He soon realized the same thing, but a moment too late when the bodyguard jumps over the poker table. I simply hear a cracking sound, and am left to guess as to what happened since the table was in the way.

What I did see was Bartley running towards me when the table flew to his left. Now, he is pressing the gun against the back of my head. With the two other players having escaped, security will probably arrive soon. It would be a problem if I get shot here, but this bodyguard has too much potential to lose over something like this.

"Get out from behind that table and show yourself!" Bartley wails in exasperation, sweat dribbling down his hand.

"Don't mind me, Lancelot. Go ahead and get rid of this guy." I interject. I intentionally used his title in "11" hoping that it will plant distrust and make him disregard my safety. Regaining his trust later should be easy enough, considering his personality. Trying to rescue a hostage in this situation, on the other hand, is suicide.

"I can't do that." He firmly responds.

"It doesn't matter if he shoots me. I won't-"

"It matters to me. I can't let anyone get involved. It goes against my rules. Bartley, shoot me instead. I won't move if you promise to let her go."

Is he really nothing more than an id-

"As if!" Bartley shouts as he points the gun at the bodyguard.

At the same time, the bodyguard slightly bends forwards and dashes towards us. There is about three meters between us. It is too far a distance to reach us before Bartley fires, and is close enough for Bartley not to miss his first, or any shot. How unfortunate. It seems Zero wins by default.

Or not. The bodyguard takes two steps, and puts all his weight on his right leg on the third one. He simultaneously uses his right leg as a pivot and spins to his right as the first gun shot explodes. He then immediately ducks down and places his free left hand on the floor when the second gun shot is heard. Bartley lowers his aim and pulls on the trigger one more time, but the bodyguard is already only two feet from us, having collapsed his elbow supporting himself and used the his own weight to rapidly roll towards his left. All three shots missed, or rather, were dodged. He is within two feet now, in other words, in arms reach.

Bartley tries to move back, but the bodyguard uses his free left hand and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the gun and twists it, instantly breaking it and causing Bartley to spin up and slam on the floor.

"Miss, here is your pizza." He says politely, as if in sarcasm, while he hands me the plate on his right hand, the plate he was holding the entire time.

"Sorry but I don't like anchovies on my pizza." I retort with an unsatisfied look, trying to hide the fact that I am quite impressed, while getting hold of the plate.

Without warning, the plate drops to the ground. He suddenly swings over to my back, coming in between me and the first guy he knocked out, who has apparently regained consciousness and is aiming his gun at me.

The last gunshot resounds.

"You really are an idiot." I complain as I hold the gun he handed me earlier, its barrel still emitting smoke. It proved useful.

"I am told that quite a lot." He replies, closing his eyes and smiling sourly like a scolded child. I guess he wins the bet, contrary to my own expectations.

"But you are more than just that." I quickly add.

He answers with a puzzled expression. I give him a tap on the shoulder as I stand up and whisper-

"Tag, you're it."

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And that is the end of chapter 2. It has more action and less mind games, but I hope you guys still enjoyed it. Yes, it is a Suzaku chapter, but don't worry, the pairing in the summary is quite true. Thanks for the reviews, and I'm glad the mystery is intriguing rather than confusing. I am thinking of changing the POV from C.C. to Lelouch in the next chapter to aid in the introduction of characters and for a new perspective, but it may be confusing. Please tell me what you think.


	3. Chapter 3

I am not Sunrise, but you all know that.

Chapter 3 - The Rendezvous

"What a strange woman."

First it was the conference between several business bigwigs at the Hotel Grande, then it was a relatively secret exchange between two black market giants in the harbor district, and after that a meeting between officials from supposedly conflicting countries at an underground jazz bar. There was also the time when she bugged me when I infiltrated the Ashford Enterprise. In a mere week, she has managed to be at all these locations at such critical times, yet has not done a thing. She merely staked out each place from a nearby restaurant. There is the exception of yesterday at the casino, but that is probably all it was, an exception. Just what is she planning?

"Excuse me." I apologize for bumping into some red head stranger. I have to hurry or else I might lose her when she turns the corner.

Well, it is not like the chances for such a thing happening are high. For the past seven days that I have been observing her, she has worn an assortment of disguises, if one can even call them that. A doll outfit, a straightjacket-like dress, and boy's clothes with a skirt is not exactly the best outfit to blend into a crowd. Either way, unless she does something about her green hair, her clothes are the least of her problems.

I rush a bit as I turn the corner, only to find her gone.

Where is she? Could she have noticed my presence and hid herself? But I am certain I trailed her perfectly. Could she have an accomplice that alerted her of being tailed? But if that was the case, she must have known I was following her days ago. Is it possible that she was simply playing along all this time, and the reason she has not made a move is because she knew about me?

Sweat starts to bead on my forehead. I have to stay calm. If she knows of my actions, the possibility that this is a trap is incredibly high. I turn my head from side to side, hoping to catch a glimpse of her. If my previous analyses are correct, she should be going to the building at the following corner. The leaders of the two most prominent syndicates in this city are going to conduct negotiations in that hotel soon. Judging from her recent behavior, this should be her objective. Still, it does not explain how she can instantly disappear after turning the corner. She needs to cover at least a hundred meters to get to the entrance of the building. Even the world record for sprint is not fast enough to make that distance in the short moment I lost sight of her. This really might be a scheme targeting me. There are so many unknown factors. The only logical choice is to retreat.

I hurriedly twist my body around to go back the way I came, when she suddenly appeared to my left. She is standing with her back to the double-doors of a restaurant.

"Ah, it's you." She raised both her eyebrows and widened her eyes in surprise, but spoke in a deadpan manner.

I instinctively raised both my hands in front of me in shock and awkwardly stepped back a few steps, how many I'm not sure. She tilts her head sideways and shoots me a look of wonder, probably confused by the complex face I am wearing. I try to regain my composure. I have to, since any sign of weakness might be taken advantage of, though I feel that it might be too late to worry about that now.

"I see that you have noticed the fact that I was following you. I must say that I am impressed." I say calmly, as I gently put my hands on my cheek and slowly through my hair. I simultaneously try to control my heartbeat that was about to go out of control.

"What are you talking about?" She retorts, as she lowers her eyebrows and looks at me questioningly.

What? Is this some sort of trick? It can't be that she really was completely unaware of everything? I stand dumbfounded on the street.

"Then, wha- what are you doing here?" I shout, exasperated.

"I was just about to grab a bite, but then I forgot my wallet so I-" she pauses, and then her lips slowly slant into a mischievous smile. She then grabs me by the wrist and starts pulling me towards the restaurant. As I was still stunned by the sheer idiocy of everything, I did not resist. My head limply tilts back as I am dragged in, and I notice a sign decorated by red neon lights.

"Pizza Hut?" were the only words that rolled out of my mouth.

Several minutes pass.

She sits opposite me, comfortably leaning on the large chair beside the glass windows. She is wearing something unexpectedly normal today. The denim jacket over a white turtle neck shirt and black jeans outfit she is wearing tonight is a far cry from her typical apparel. Her distinct lengthy hair is braided left and right, held together by long white ribbons. She takes a bite into the pepperoni pizza she just ordered a while back. As if in habit, she mechanically but naturally repeats this action continuously. She hasn't spoken a word except for the order she gave to the waiter.

"Are you just going to keep eating?" I impatiently ask her.

"That is what I came here to do." A witty remark, which is not done justice by her pokerfaced expression.

"Then for what reason did you drag me in here?" I inquire seriously, trying to suppress my irritation.

"So you can pay for the bill. I told you I forgot my wallet."

This woman!!!

"Why don't you eat? You're paying for it." She pushes the pizza tray a few inches towards me, ignoring my glare.

I close my eyes and gently squeeze the bridge of my nose. I breathe in deeply, relaxing myself. There is nothing that can be gained if I lose composure here. I have to find out who she is and what here intentions are. Now that it has come to this, I will try asking her directly.

"Who are you?"

"Is that really important? We probably won't see each other again after this."

"Yes it is."

After a brief moment of silence she replies.

"C2"

A strange name befitting an equally strange woman, somehow I immediately accept it as truth.

"Why did you plant a transmitter on me a week ago?"

"That doesn't matter anymore. Whatever the reason was, it doesn't involve you now." She answers immediately, and then proceeds to take another bite into her fifth slice of pizza.

"Do you really think I can just accept that?" I say as I lightly slam my hand on the table.

"Speaking of a week ago, how did you know it was me that put that button on you?" She changes her tone and speaks seriously, trying to hide the fact that she is changing the subject. I indulge her.

"The transmitter was easy enough to notice. A simple check of my wardrobe was all it took to see an extra button. With the size of the transmitter, the unit receiving the signal has to be within the proximity of the building, and the prime spot for outside observation is that café. I simply looked for anyone with a computer or anything of the sort inside the café, and there you were." I explain, leaving out the fact that what really gave her away is her hair. Anyone bumping into such a strange girl with hair like a neon sign would be suspicious.

"Hmm…" she lightly nods. She seems to accept the explanation.

"It's my turn to ask questions now. What were you doing staking out those places in the past week? You have been in the area of several important gatherings without taking action. Such is the case today with the syndicate negotiations in the building next door. What exactly are you planning?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about." She answers while looking directly at me. It is quite easy for me to tell if a person is lying, and that is not what she is doing.

Everything fits. I had a hunch since we entered the restaurant, but that is now confirmed. She staked out all of those places from a restaurant. She merely stayed there and did nothing. All of those restaurants were Pizza Hut branches. She is eating pizza that I am paying for right now. All of the conditions are met. Setting aside the elaborate coincidence, the answer was pretty clear.

"You were having dinner?" I blurt out weakly, as if all of the energy has drained from my body.

She looks at me puzzled, and, as if she has realized something, nods her head and smiles without answering. I can almost hear the voice in her head saying "What a weird person." I can't believe it. She is the last person I would allow to think of me like that, but in this case, I simply can't deny it.

But if that was the case, the one exception, the break in the pattern becomes the key to everything.

"Why were you with Lancelot at the casino last night?"

Her expression instantly changes. The previous laidback atmosphere transforms into something hostile, which also puts me on alert. My guess was correct. The fact that Lancelot and I are connected to this woman is too much of a coincidence. Two of 11's members being involved by chance is too improbable. Though I did write off Lancelot's presence at the casino last night as happenstance, her current reaction disproves that assumption.

I slowly reach for my gun in my trouser pocket and wrap my fingers around it, preparing to take it out if she tries anything. I have to admit that she is quite something. Few people would be as composed as her knowing that they are facing "Zero", and even fewer can put me in a situation like now. She is definitely not some amateur, even if for some reason I am not quite myself today.

"Let's just say that it was a test, and now the test is over so it's no use to talk about it any further." She sternly replies, her eyes slightly narrowing as if she is trying to threaten me from digging deeper.

She is definitely much easier to handle now, for me at least.

"So you were testing me as well. I see now." I answer, as I give a slight smile.

She looks displeased, as if I have discovered the one thing she does not want anyone to know.

"So, why did I lose?" I ask her, genuinely curious, and slightly irritated at the fact.

She widens her eyes, as if I said something completely unexpected, and she starts chuckling.

"Of all the things you could ask, you _should_ ask, you inquire about that? You really are weird, but very interesting." She speaks in a much lighter tone than before. The tension seems to have broken, and I instinctively loosen my grip on the gun. I still feel insulted though, and words seem to have more effect than her previous tell-tale reaction.

"I'm quite sure it was a contest between us, and since you yourself stated that the test is over and I have not been notified otherwise, you probably chose him instead of me. Why?"

"Well, there is the fact that you suddenly disappeared after out last encounter."

"No one in their right mind would do otherwise. Approaching you then is simply too risky, especially since I knew nothing about you at that time."

"Right now isn't very different." A taunting smile appears on her face.

I shrug my shoulders. She is perfectly right.

"What is the other reason? I doubt you will let such an insignificant setback prevent you from getting what you want." I probe deeper.

"You are simply too unpredictable, and well, cunning for what I have in mind." She pauses for an instant, then answers seriously, but her smile does not disappear.

A bit surprised but satisfied with her answer, I decide to alter the direction of my questions.

"What is he supposed to do exactly? Having been involved with your test, I have the right to know." I demand, but without force in my voice.

She peeks up at me while trying to sever a persistent string of mozzarella cheese between the slice of pizza on her hand and the remaining one on the table with her index finger. It seems she is aware of what I am trying to do, but does not particularly mind, at least, not anymore.

"Well, let me put it this way. He and I are bound by contract. He simply needs to do what I tell him. I somehow find it difficult to imagine you doing the same." She responds haughtily.

"True enough. Still, I find it just as hard to imagine that he would agree so easily. It _is_ a contract, so what did you offer him in return?"

"Power."

The word resounds like a bell in my ears. What power is she talking about? What power did that Lancelot obtain instead of me? But even if I only know him by reputation, I am quite certain he is not the type to get tempted by such a thing, unlike myself.

"I know him. He is not the kind of person who would toil in exchange for that." I bluff.

"Indeed, so I _convinced_ him." She speaks nonchalantly, while twirling the long strands of hair flowing down her cheek with her fingers.

"Don't you mean you _forced_ him?"

"Call it what you like."

What a pushover, was what I was about to say when I saw the last slice of pizza _that I am paying_ _for _on the tray and realize I am no different. This is something I never would have even dreamt I would ever do. Somehow, this woman puts me out of rhythm, yet oddly at ease. It is an insecure yet liberating feeling quite new to me.

"You can have that last slice. I ate the rest of it anyway; I can be nice and give you at least one." She arrogantly banters as she points at the last piece.

"I can't. I don't want Nunnally seeing me get fat-" I blurted out. I wince, realizing I stopped myself too late.

It was a grave mistake. I accidentally revealed my most important secret, my only weakness. Even getting carried away has its limits, and crossing that line means I have to clean up after myself. I tighten my grip on the gun, ready to aim and shoot the only person other than me that knows of Nunnally's existence.

"It seems even Zero has someone important to him. You're face says everything." She shifts in her seat, and her right hand disappears under the table.

"It seems both of us ended up knowing too much about each other." I state matter-of-factly.

She closes her eyes and gives a nod followed by a weak sigh. Somehow, I feel that she is disappointed at how the events turned out. I share that regret.

That was my chance. There is no better time than when she has her eyes shut. Just as I drew my gun, at the edge of my vision I see the redhead I bumped into earlier walking outside the glass window. With the street lights directly illuminating her face, I recognize her immediately. In the next moment, she disappeared into the corner. That instant delayed me from pulling the trigger by half a second.

A sudden flash blinds me, followed by a deafening explosion.

Glass flies all around me, several shards embedding themselves into my right forearm. Losing the strength in my fingers, I drop my unfired gun. With my head still ringing from the blast, I try to reorient myself and regain a decent degree of my senses. The entire room was destroyed by the detonation, and everything is veiled by black smoke. As the smoke slowly clears up, I notice a dull pain contrasting the sharp sensation on my arm.

"It seems she was half a second quicker."

My lower left abdomen is dyed crimson. She was able to shoot me, but I assume that the explosion next door affected her aim. I curse inwardly, but I'm still quite lucky that I am in much better shape than the syndicate members in the neighboring building. It seems I owe Scarlet for this one, though if she hadn't been there in the first place I probably would have managed by myself.

I scan the room, trying to find the woman that shot me. A few meters to my left I see a body strewn on the floor, bathed in a medley of glittering glass and blood. It seems her left arm was blown off. Her jacket is in shreds and her formerly braided hair is now scattered messily, soiled by the pool of red fluid underneath it. I move towards her limp body and check her pulse. It is very weak, but she is still alive. I pick up my gun with my left hand and point it at her forehead.

I stand there for about twenty seconds, but my finger won't budge. I put the gun back in my pocket, and slowly make my way towards what is left of the restaurant doors. There is no need to waste any bullets or time. She will die with such severe wounds anyway.

Her eyes are unfocused, and she gasps for air. With each breath she takes, more blood streams out from her left shoulder. It is absolutely certain that she will die.

Then what the hell am I doing?

"You are heavier than you look." I mumble.

It must be all that pizza.

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And that is where chapter 3 ends. I know that it is kind of a cliffhanger, but I assure you that the next chapter will pick up where this left off. This is the second Lelouch and C2 interaction, and is probably the longest conversation in the entire story as of yet. I would like to know how it turned out, so please feel free to give me your comments and suggestions. Thanks for all the reviews. They are really a big help not only in writing the story, but also for motivation (something which I lack terribly). I'm planning to introduce several new characters in the next chapter, so look forward to it.


	4. Chapter 4

If I own Code Geass, this would not be called fanfiction. Unfortunately, it is.

Chapter 4 - The Lesson

It is a warm feeling. It seems like something I haven't felt for such a long time, so nostalgic, yet so painful. Have I really missed such a comfort? Just when I thought that I have gotten used to this icy solitude, fate really has to tempt me and weaken my resolve. Right now, I don't even know what it is. Where is it coming from? But this fleeting warmth feels so precious that if I even doubt its existence for a moment it will disappear, just like a dream. Am I dreaming?

"I guess I shouldn't have asked that." I slowly part my eyes, regretting the fact that my curiosity for both the warmth's reality and identity has ripped me apart from a longed for illusion, once again.

"I guess I shouldn't have asked the one before that either." I curse at myself, after seeing what triggered that hated dream.

I immediately see Zero's back. His cream turtleneck shirt is defiled by blood, my blood. He seems to be laying face down beneath me, with his eyes closed and his face writhing in pain. I slowly lift myself up with my left hand while I try to get a hold of what is happening. That's right, I shot him, and all of a sudden there was an explosion. I remember very little after that though, well, aside from excruciating pain which I would rather forget.

"But why am I here? What are you talking about? That's impossible. He wouldn't try to help me. I am technically his enemy. Besides, I tried to shoot him."

Tried? I close my eyes as I try to pull out the last piece of memory from what happened. Ah, yes. I succeeded. I glance at his body. It seems he is bleeding from his lower left torso. So is he dead? I gently clasp my hand around his neck and check for a pulse.

"So what if he is still alive? Why should I help him? He isn't exactly the most convenient person to keep around, with what he knows about me, and even Lancelot." I pause after I notice that covering my shoulders is his black jacket. I practically wore nothing underneath it though. My own jacket was probably torn to shreds by the blast. Around my left shoulder is what is left of my shirt, wrapped as if used as makeshift gauze.

"What a spoiled brat. Honestly, who tries to save an enemy who tried and almost managed to killing you?" I mutter to myself this time.

Add to that carrying a person on his back while bleeding from a gunshot wound and taking that would be enemy all the way to his home, it seems that I was not mistaken in choosing Lancelot. At least he was professional enough to not mind killing if necessary. Really, this boy just disappoints me.

"Now, where do you keep your first aid kit?" I ask him, of course not expecting an answer.

Having no other choice, I decide to wear his jacket for now. The size is off by a wide margin, an expected outcome with over half a foot of difference in height. I stand up to search the place. I find myself near the door of a simple apartment. It looks just like any ordinary apartment. If anything serves as a distinction it is the sheer lack of it. With dark blue walls and really rudimentary furnishings, it seems almost too barren for use.

Having no idea where he keeps anything, I search blindly throughout the apartment. I eventually find a first aid kit inside the overhead drawers of the small kitchen on the east side. I go back and drag him from doorstep and towards the couch.

I hear a loud thud.

"Ngghh." He grumbles in pain. It is understandable, since I banged his head on the living room table. I chuckle a little. I don't apologize though. Apologies are for the sake of appeasing the other party's feelings. Being unconscious, I doubt he cares either way.

I lay him down on the couch. He is lucky that the bullet went clean through. I guess he is fortunate to have been shot at such close range. Well, maybe not.

"This should be simple enough." I say, glad that this isn't going to take as much effort as I had expected.

About thirty minutes pass.

I finish the treatment by wrapping the gauze tightly to prevent the wound from reopening. The bleeding has stopped, and the antiseptic I applied should prevent infection. He seems to be a bit pale from the blood loss, but otherwise he will survive.

I sigh in relief when I feel a slight buzz on my left breast. I check what the odd tingling sensation is. Apparently, a mobile phone is inside the left jacket pocket, and someone seems to be trying to contact it. If this is Zero's personal phone, the person calling him should know something useful about him. I decide to answer the phone to get some information.

A beep sounds after I press the receive button.

"Hey, this is Millie." A lively female voice comes out from the slim black phone.

I decide not to answer, siding with caution.

"Lelouch? Are you there?" The voice asks worriedly.

Is that Zero's real name? It could be another alias he uses for his associates. But judging from how worried the voice sounds, it is no mere associate calling him.

"A lover?" I whisper to myself. For some odd reason, it sounded sharper and louder than I intended it. I hope the phone didn't pick it up.

"Lelouch? Please answer!" she seems to be getting more and more suspicious. If this woman knows about this place and decides to come over, it might ruin my chance to investigate Zero's place thoroughly.

I put the receiver near Zero's mouth, and then I give his gunshot wound a slight press.

"Ngghh." He mutters as he squirms in pain.

"You should answer quicker if you're there. I'm calling to thank you about the job a week ago. My father finally realized that the security on the Ashford Enterprise main building is insufficient. I swear, it would take an actual terrorist infiltration to wake him up, and it did. Of course, compensation will be given the usual way." The voice on the phone quickly replies, finishing with almost no pause.

Another press.

"Nggghhh…" His moans of pain seem to be getting longer, or it might be my fingers are pressing progressively harder. I should ease up a bit. He did try to save my life, as unnecessary as that is.

"Oh don't complain. You receive more than enough don't you? Besides, I don't really see what you would need that much cash for." The woman on the other end seems to interpret the moans as she wants. I'm not sure if Zero is always this tightlipped with her, or if she just likes to talk a lot. I can almost imagine her completely pushing him around while all he can do is nod. I guess she really is his lov-

"Hey Lelouch. Are you by any chance with a girl right now?" This comment jolts me back to reality.

"Not answering means that you are! I can't believe that you are actually dating! I thought that you would stay single forever. Who is she? Come on, introduce me!" The teasing voice from the phone came in waves, only separated by short burst of giggling.

"So she isn't his lover." I blurt out.

"That is a girl's voice! I knew it-"

I press a button to end the call. I'm really not good with those types. As long as she is convinced that she was talking to this "Lelouch", then there should be no problem. Besides, I have a much more important call to make. I dial a set of numbers like it was second nature to me.

"Hello? Yes, I would like to order a pizza."

After I finish giving the address for the apartment which was fortunately written on his license, I take out enough money from his wallet to pay the Pizza Hut guy later. He after all, was supposed to buy me dinner.

I finish ordering and put the phone back into the jacket pocket. I start investigating the stuff inside the apartment, looking for clues on Zero's identity. According to his license, he seems to go by the name of Lelouch Lamperouge. I have no way of making certain whether that is his real name, but at least it is a start. Now that I think about it, It wouldn't be strange if it is his real name, for as long as he keeps his Zero persona a complete secret, living a normal life with his original name should work out fine. It may even be ideal, since it lessens suspicion that may arise from fabricated papers and the like. The best way to not leave a trace is not to tread the path in the first place.

I enter the first of the two bedrooms of the apartment. The interior doesn't really differ from the rest of the place, with only a bed, a table and a closet as furniture. There is a laptop computer on the table, but the protection is incredibly tight, as expected from a person who can shutdown high-level security for five minutes. Without the right software, it is just about impossible for me to break in. I try my luck and type in the only possible password that comes to mind. N-U-N-N-A-L-L-Y, enter. With a tone of confirmation and a welcome note on the screen, I get past the first level of security on the computer. I try checking the files that can be accessed at this level of access, but I find nothing of any real importance. He only has several incomplete computer programs on disk.

"A computer programmer?" I wearily conclude. It is a logical day job for him, since if he works freelance, he can work from home. And with his skills, it should take virtually no time at all.

I check his online records. It seems he frequents online chess tournaments. Despite having firsthand knowledge of his tactical skill, I am honestly surprised at his 574 – 0 win lose record. I'm pretty sure they bet money on these games. He must be making quite a bit from this.

"Is Nunnally his lover?" I wonder, since she seems to be very important to him. A sister perhaps?

This is as far as I can go with this password. I decide to check the remaining room for any other clues. I walk out the room and step towards the bedroom door a few meters away. I grasp the doorknob and open the door as I did the one before.

"Brother?" a soft female voice greets my intrusion.

I stop at my tracks, regretting how careless I can be. I assumed that Zero lived alone in this apartment, particularly because of the nature of his work and the lack of signs of life.

"Hello, Nunnally." I reply as soon as I can, so as not to arouse suspicion from the girl.

She seems to be in her early teens. She immediately tries to straighten her white dress out as soon as she notices me. Her long wavy light brown hair flows down her pink vest and rests on top of the bed as she remains seated.

"Oh, a visitor? You must be brother's friend!" She answers, with a hint of excitement in her voice. Her cute face seems to form into a smile, but her eyes remain closed. Is she blind? It seems so. A stranger walking into your room wearing only a black jacket with nothing underneath is not really something to overlook.

"Yes. I was with your brother until just a moment ago. He said that he will get something to eat. I'm sure he will be back in a bit." I hesitate to use the name Lelouch since if it is an alias, this girl definitely knows the real one.

"I see. Oh how rude of me, please be seated. I am sorry I cannot get you anything to drink." Her eyebrows seem to slant sadly, but her smile remains vibrant. She seems so pure that looking at her is like staring at clear flowing water. I can almost never get tired of it.

I take a few more steps into the room. The moment I look around, I am immediately taken aback by what decorates the entire room. It is the exact opposite of what I believe to be Zero's room but just as, if not even weirder. When I was staying in Japan a few years ago, I remember coming across a belief that if a person folds one thousand paper cranes, their wish will come true. What kind of wish does this girl want granted with a hundred thousand of them?

I take a seat on the wooden chair across the bed. The room is almost like a nest for the innumerable paper cranes. I can't seem to shake of the unnerving feeling that they are all looking at me, especially the ones on the high shelves that surround the room. Even on the table beside me, there is probably around fifty paper cranes all lined up. I pick one up out of curiosity. If there is perfection in origami, then this must be it. All the folds are flawlessly aligned, and there is not a trace of unnecessary creases on the paper. I guess with that much practice you have no choice but to become this skilled.

"May I ask what your name is? You seem to have heard about me from my brother so…" Nunnally politely asks as she shyly bows her head, as if she forgot something important.

"I'm C2."

"What an interesting name. Are you my brother's co-worker?"

"Your brother and I have been through matters of life and death together." Her eyebrows suddenly rise in surprise at my response.

"I see. Why didn't he tell me that he has such a nice girlfriend? He could have introduced us earlier." She answers, slightly but playfully pouting.

"He couldn't help it. We only formally met tonight." I explain truthfully. Again her eyebrows climb in amazement.

"Is that so? Amazing. I didn't know brother can be that quick." She retains her saintly smile as she tries to contain her shock.

"Do you like origami?" I ask an obvious question to change the topic.

"Maybe, I am not really sure. It is just that I have nothing else I can do so I keep doing it. Maybe I have grown to enjoy it." She gives me a completely unexpected answer.

"Would you like me to teach you? Oh, that is if you do not know how to do it yet." She continues.

"Okay. Teach me how to fold the crane." I say as I stand up and walk towards the bed.

While I know how to do origami, leaving right now would be very suspicious. Besides, a girl who can fold such a faultless crane will definitely be worth learning from.

"That's great. Please take a seat on the bed." She replies as she opens the drawer beside her bed and takes out two sheets of folding paper and a pair of scissors.

I sit beside her on the bed as she starts explaining how to make the paper crane. Since she can't see, she feels the edges of the paper and aligns them before she folds. I guess using touch to measure can be much more accurate than sight.

"What do we need the scissors for? Isn't the whole point of origami to not cut the paper?" I question her, sincerely interested.

She doesn't answer immediately. We both finish our paper cranes, and she gently takes my work and examines it with her hands. Then she takes the pair of scissors and cuts off the wings of the cranes we just folded.

"Why did you do that?" I ask stupefied.

"Imperfect cranes do not deserve to have wings." She answers without emotion, but still smiling.

I close my eyes for a moment. I feel a sense of pity towards her, but I immediately realize that I have no such right for I am in a similar circumstance. She crumples the failed origami we just made.

"Can you please take out two more sheets of paper from the drawer while I throw this away?" She requests, again in her almost overly polite tone.

I almost instinctively nod my head and reach for the drawer. Since I was sitting on the far end of the bed, I have to reach over her to open the drawer and get the sheets.

"I am such a fool." Was all I could say when I realized my naïve mistake. The sharp point of the scissors is already lightly piercing my neck while the innocent-looking girl has her left arm around it.

Such a move would normally never work on me. But I was completely off-guard when I moved near her. It took but a split second to get me into such a position.

"You are not my brother's acquaintance. He has never brought anyone, much less a friend, home. You are not his co-worker either. My brother tries to hide it, but I know what he actually does. It is the exact same reason I am kept hidden in this room. There is no way my brother would just carelessly talk about me to anyone. Just who are you? And where is my brother?" She still speaks in her sweet child-like voice while keeping the scissors partially embedded on my already bleeding skin.

I guess the problem with clear water is that one can never tell how deep the bottom is.

"You're brother is in the living room asleep. Aside from that, everything else I told you is the truth." I opt to be honest. Getting her excited and receiving my second fatal wound in one day is something I would like to avoid.

"Please do not underestimate me. I may be blind, but I am not stupid. What did you do to my brother?"

The last thing I would ever do is underestimate this girl again. From the moment that she said "A visitor?" she has planned out everything. Asking the usual questions to get me relaxed, inviting me to do origami to reduce the physical distance between us, giving the excuse for taking out the scissors that now serves as her weapon, and asking me to get new sheets of paper to get me in a position where it is difficult to defend myself, all of it has been part of her scheme. I guess I really have been taught a lesson this time.

I have only one chance. I have to provoke her, and try to twist the scissors away from her hand when she gets agitated and breaks concentration. At worst she may stab my neck, but I'm pretty sure I can break hers before I lose consciousness. My fate comes down to only one moment, and the second time tonight at that. She really is her brother's sister.

"I shot him." I say matter-of-factly, while I turn my head slightly to get a glance at her reaction.

Her smiling face contorts to a frown. She tightly grits her teeth and knits her eyebrows. If her eyes were open, I'm pretty sure she is glaring at me right now. This is my chance.

A swishing sound cuts the air.

The bedroom door swings open. Standing in the doorway is Zero, with his abdomen still bandaged up. He is holding his left side and his shoulders are heaving in pain while he tries to keep breathing and standing. He freezes the moment he sees what is happening. His eyes widen along with his already gaping mouth.

An almost girly scream echoes in the room.

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Again, another cliffhanger.I know this chapter took a while to come out, but that is because it is the first of two parts. The continuation willprobably comeout in a few days. For another excuse, I used up quite a bit of time making a promotional picture of sorts for this fanfiction. For those who are interested, please write down shinta-hikari. deviantart. com on your address bar, without the spaces of course. (What I mean is please please check it out,and comment if you can).

Again, comments and criticisms are welcome (especially about the Nunnally change). Thanks for the reviews. It is practically a miracle that I have kept this story going for 4 chapters now, considering my innate laziness. I owe those people who are expecting updates. It is your comments that keep me going.


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